


As Broken as We Are

by the_throwaway_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, Confessions, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Remus Lupin, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), Mild Language, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Pre-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Present Tense, References to Addiction, References to Depression, Remus Lupin Has Issues, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Remus Lupin has Self-Esteem Issues, Reunions, Sad Remus Lupin, Sad Sirius Black, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Sirius Black Has Issues, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Sirius Black is a Good Friend, Sirius Black is a Little Shit, Strained Friendships, Strained Relationships, Suicidal Thoughts, To Read, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_throwaway_account/pseuds/the_throwaway_account
Summary: A quick "Lie low at Lupin's" in which Sirius leans on alcohol to numb himself and Remus is already numb without it. Old, dark secrets come to light on the evening before the moon when Lupin finally can't hold his tongue any longer.I wish James were here instead of you.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	1. Bend

Sirius grips a whiskey bottle resting on his thigh, a cheap Muggle brand. His free hand moves over the worn grooves in the tabletop in Lupin’s modest, well-kept kitchen.

It’s three weeks into the summer before Harry’s 5th year, and Black’s gained weight nicely. He’s also reclaimed the silkiness of his hair, still devoid of gray and now trimmed to a bit past his shoulders. He wears a gray Henley and black lounge pants. Simple, but new and well-fitting clothes obtained through a small stipend Dumbledore provided.

As he takes another drink, he hears a soft bell tone ring out, the wards on the house signaling Remus’ return.

As he enters, Lupin shifts a canvas shopping bag to his left arm to take out his wand and murmur the incantations to conceal his home from sight and close back up the wide, circular perimeter surrounding it. He enters the kitchen with a nod in Black’s direction, who raises his chin in stoic greeting.

Lupin places the shopping on the counter and stares at it a moment. 

“How are you even getting all this alcohol?” He says wearily, not even sure why he’s asking. Clearly it’s been stolen.

“I have my ways,” Black answers.

* * *

Not many groceries were purchased, so Remus is through putting them away quickly. Stretching his back, he looks longingly down the dark hallway leading to his bedroom but chooses to forego this sanctuary and take a seat across from Sirius.

He's grown a short beard since he and Sirius were first reunited, and quite an enviable one, from Black's perspective— full and even and reddish in tone. The particular makeup of the illustrious Black genes had always prevented such a feat.

Sirius scratches at the whiskey label with his thumb, once again shocking himself with his capacity for remembering small moments from before that Halloween. He could recall walking in on Remus shaving his face early in their 6th year, and he’d immediately made a werewolf joke.

 _Don’t forget the palms of your hands_ , he’d said.  
Lupin had merely looked at him, foamy-faced and eyebrow raised, saying _Really_?

* * *

Somehow, still, it’s difficult for Remus to look at Sirius. He doesn’t seem real. If he looks too long, he might disappear. So for a long while he gazes out of the kitchen window’s open blinds. He can sense the calm out there, in the twilight blue. He wishes he could draw the feeling into the kitchen as Sirius takes another drink, setting the bottle on the table.

 _What am I supposed to say?_ Lupin thinks. _How am I supposed to start? When has he ever listened to me anyway?_

Frustration with himself builds and Remus grabs the bottle from Black’s elbow, pulling it toward himself compulsively.

“Should I just join you?” he says acidly. “Should we just ruin everything? Waste ourselves away with a war coming, and leave Harry by himself?”

Though he makes no movement, deep, aching anger sparks in Sirius’ eyes. Remus is glad to see it cut through the drowsy glaze of alcohol.

The silence between them stretches thinner and thinner. Lupin looks away, trying and failing to relax the tension in his shoulders.

“I wish James were here instead of you,” Black says, voice painfully solid.

The two men meet eyes across the table now feeling miles wide— the gray of stone, the brown of dirt.

Lupin for a moment expects him to apologize. When no repentance comes, something cold twists inside his chest. Hurt and anger both vie for the spotlight, but they both end up losing.

“Finally,” he says lowly. “Something we can agree upon.”

He nearly smiles at the surprise in Black’s eyes.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, replayed things… if I had been the Secret Keeper,” Remus scoffs. “If by some miracle I’d earned enough trust for that.”

He runs his hand through his hair and the silver sparkles in the yellow light above them.

“I imagined the Deatheaters finding out, being swept off the street some random night- tortured and killed keeping the secret, finally useful.”

He looks away, closing the window blinds with a brief sweep of his wandless hand.

“You would have your brother and Harry would have his father. It makes no sense, how things happened. I hate it. I don’t know why I’m here or why I stay.”

A beat passes.

“We need you,” says Sirius, and even these words hurt Remus, as he so longs to believe them.

“You’re drunk,” he returns. “I don’t know when you’re lying or telling the truth. I don’t know anything.”

He curses under his breath, rising abruptly from his seat. He takes long steps further into the kitchen to pour the alcohol down the drain. The bottle clatters in the sink, and he runs the water a bit, taking some over his face. He feels nauseous, and words push up his throat like vomit.

“Years ago, drinking almost killed me, more than once,” he says. “I can’t have it around me. I really— I can’t handle it.”

He leans against the counter, gripping the edge. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or yell.

Sirius approaches slowly. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he says.

“Yes, well, I can hardly blame you for that,” Remus says.

Black stands some distance away, frozen in indecision. Lupin forces a deep breath.

“I can’t come close to imagining how things were in that god-forsaken place,” he says. “And perhaps I’m being selfish, but I lost all of you in one night and I can’t forget your tendency to take things too far. I don’t want to find you one day in bed, not breathing, or hunched over in this kitchen.”

Lupin turns to face Sirius, daring a look at his face. He finds Black looking away at the chipped linoleum.

“I don’t want that either. I—” Sirius starts, clearing his throat. “I don’t like being like this, but I’m so _trapped_.”

He glances at Remus, rubbing at his forehead roughly.

“Things are so fucking… mixed up, upside down,” he says. “But I don’t want to waste my chance to finally _do_ something.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I’ll stop bringing drinks around. I know I have to, if I want to be of any use.”

Lupin just nods, suddenly too exhausted to decide if he even believes him.

“The moon’s tomorrow,” he says. “I need to sleep.”

It’s now his turn to avoid Black’s eyes as he walks past him and towards his room.


	2. Break

Late the next morning, Sirius once again sits at the kitchen table. He bounces his leg as he eats and does his best to ignore his lingering headache.

Remus enters, walking slowly and paying him no mind. Instinctually, Black’s eyes find the wall clock and he’s not surprised to see the time as precisely 11:00 a.m.

Lupin goes straight for the pantry and selects a tall vial and two mason jars from the top shelf. Sirius notes right away that these are not average spices, but potion ingredients, and the way Remus moves tells Sirius he’s done this a million times.

Lupin gathers a blender, protein powder, milk, and a small portion of fruit before going to work on his drink.

“Got better at potions, huh?” Sirius says.

“Had to,” says Remus in a soft monotone. “Well, I had Poppy’s help too.”

“Poppy?” says Black.

“Pomfrey.” 

Remus runs the blender without another word, effectively voiding any response Sirius may have had.

He pours the entirety of the drink, looking an off-putting pink, into a tall glass and settles into an armchair in the living room.

Black’s leg stills. Soon after finishing his meal, he moves to the living room. He leans against the doorjamb, crossing his arms.

“Okay, look,” he says. “I’m staying with you tonight.”

“What? No,” Remus says, looking up from his book sharply. “I have the Wolfsbane. You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, and I’m going to,” Black presses, and Lupin notes a subtle smirk in his expression.

Sirius knows he’s too tired to put up an argument. He knows he’s already won.

“Son of a bitch,” Lupin says, looking to the ceiling.

“Okay. You can stay, but you need to keep away from me and face the wall until after I’ve changed.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Remus looks at him a moment longer, almost as if he’s about to say more, but instead he picks his drink up from the table and retreats to his room.

* * *

As dusk begins to edge into the sky, Remus emerges and finds Black on the living room couch.

“Let’s go then,” he says flatly.

In steady paces he leads Black into the kitchen and opens a heavy door in the far corner. Sirius follows him down the stairs to the basement, pausing halfway to survey the room.

The wood paneling on the walls shines handsomely in the dim, warm light from a brass light fixture looking almost like a chandelier. Mattresses, mismatched rugs, quilts, and cushions take up the entire far corner of the floor, all but begging to be laid into.

“Hey, this is pretty nice, all things considered,” he says upon stepping off the stairs.

“Stay over here,” Remus says just to his right. In the moment Sirius had been taking stock, Remus turned a worn loveseat to face the wall.

He turns to Sirius, who is struck with nostalgia at the yellowing ring around Lupin’s iris. First in his chest a blooming of excitement as if they were about to explore the Hogwarts grounds, then in his gut a cold stone settles at the circumstances of this moon so far removed from their school days.

"I really mean this,” Remus says. “Potion or not, the moment I start to change you need to become Padfoot and stay that way the whole time. If you respect me at all—"

“Hey,” Sirius cuts in. “I respect you. I was planning on changing. I’m not always so hopeless.”

Remus eyes him curiously for a moment.

“Okay, good. So, get comfortable,” he says, shrugging off his sweater and walking toward the coat rack in the corner.

* * *

Lupin untucks his shirt, turning to be sure Sirius is facing away. He sees that Black has splayed himself across the small couch, leaving his feet hanging over one side. Remus both welcomes and resents the edge of a smile he feels pulling on the edge of his mouth.

He finishes undressing and eases down among the cushions, realizing after some moments that he should have put a silencing spell on himself. He knows, however, that if he stands now, the muscles in his legs will lock up and immediately have him back on the ground. He thinks Sirius is just going to have to deal with it.

Despite this, Remus finds himself stifling the painful sounds that rise from him. He closes his eyes, counting deep breaths in and out.

* * *

“I didn’t mean it yesterday,” Black says suddenly. “Of course I want you here, and Lily. I want all of us together.”

Silence crushes them a moment as Remus steels himself to break it.

“I believe you,” he says, knowing full well that he can’t afford not to.

He stares at Black’s boots across the room.

“I want that too, but at least—" he cuts off in a short groan. “We’re not alone anymore,” he finishes, clearing his throat.

He rubs at his blurring eyes, opening them again to see a large black dog approaching.

“Sirius, fuck,” Remus says, looking away to glare at the wall.

No one has seen him like this, naked and thatched with scars from dozens of moons spent alone.

* * *

_How is he still alive?_ Black thinks.

The question rings in his head along with Lupin’s earlier words:

_I lost you all in one night._

Ice water settles harshly in Sirius’ gut, and the dog whines.

“I know,” Lupin says, glancing at him. “Not looking so great, but somehow this old heart doesn’t want to quit,” he says around a jolt and a wince. “Not yet.”

Padfoot circles Remus and nudges his blocky head under his chin. After only a subtle hesitation, Lupin wraps his arm around the animal, scratching his fluffy chest. Sirius revels in the touch— human touch, however platonic, fills his heart near to bursting.

Remus’ arm stiffens as a painful shudder ripples over his entire body, stealing his breath, and Sirius recalls this kind of seizing happening just before he becomes lost to the pain.

Padfoot moves to face Lupin more fully and now trembling in earnest, he embraces the animal.

“Thank you,” he says roughly before abruptly falling away onto his side.

Remus can’t help but yell out. He can’t help but cry as his body twists out of shape. For as long as he can manage, he keeps his eyes on Padfoot.

The spectral dog sits nearby, respectfully facing away, guarding.


	3. Mend

As Lupin’s cries dissolve into soft howls and the howls quiet to only harsh breathing, Sirius remains still even as his heart beats a painful staccato against his ribs. As the wolf’s breathing steadies, he remains where he is, unsure what Remus wants to do, if he wants to stay out of sight. His wondering is put to an end shortly as Moony moves through his peripheral vision and into full view, shaking himself out not unlike a wet dog.

The wolf appears larger in both height and weight than Sirius recalls. As the details of lycanthrope physiology escape him, Black wonders if the wolf had not been fully grown the last time they met, when they were only 21 years old. Despite the years passed and the surprising size of the wolf, fear doesn’t for a moment enter Sirius’ mind.

* * *

The animal’s fur shows more silver than Lupin’s hair, looking as if snow has fallen on him and remained there, un-melting. The white specks catch the light as Moony begins pacing a circuit around the room, pausing periodically to stretch his legs, neck and back.

Padfoot moves further towards the wall, curling up among the much-appreciated pillows.

As the wolf turns in Black’s direction, he meets his eyes for a moment and the yellow gaze jolts him deeply. Never before has Sirius seen a human steadiness in Moony’s eyes. In the pack’s explorations at school, the wolf was not explicitly violent, but indeed remained quite wild, always just a touch unpredictable.

The surreal moment passes as the wolf turns toward the couch near the staircase and drags it out onto the middle of the floor. He then begins pushing the seating back and forth across the floor, sometimes jumping on, off, and over it.

As the wolf exercises in near silence, puzzlement lingers for a long moment in Sirius’ mind, though he figures eventually that the moon must still pull Moony to motion, still pull at his tendons, make him itch. Like a feverish hand, bitter nostalgia curls around Black’s heart as he feels certain Remus is thinking of the grass of the Hogwarts grounds beneath his feet, how they used to all but fly toward the Forbidden Forest— young, strong, invincible.

Padfoot remains laying in the cushioned corner, watching in rapt interest how easily the animal moves despite his over-long hind legs causing a hunched and loping silhouette. Although the wolf generally ignores him in his roving, Sirius finds himself seeking glimpses of the animal’s face, with small ears and angular muzzle. He craves this forcibly more open countenance, of course less expressive than a man, but by the same token less able to be disguised.

A wall clock tells Black that nearly three hours pass before the wolf is content to rest, curling up a healthy distance away from him.

* * *

Sirius is nudged awake by a low growl followed by Moony huffing through his nose harshly.

They both rise, Lupin turning a small circle to dig at the blankets to bunch them closer together. Black once more sits himself a short distance away.

Lupin’s shift after the moon hurts Sirius more than the one at moonrise, as the animal sounds shift to his familiar, deeply exhausted voice. He can’t help but transform back to watch over Remus in those last moments, as if it will somehow help, as if anything could help. His eyes burn at the sight of him, now outwardly human, but still twisting with tight fists and arched back.

At the end, he goes so suddenly still that for a horrible moment Sirius thinks he’s died. He moves forward to see Remus' breaths are simply very shallow. He shows no response as Black checks his pulse for good measure, which is strong and painfully fast. He moves Lupin’s splayed arms more comfortably to his sides and pulls a patched quilt over top of him. He sits with crossed legs, running an agitated hand through his hair. That moment of pure dread, the thought of being alone again, lingers in the tension in his lower back.

* * *

Sirius wonders if it’d be better if he left now, retreated to his bedroom before Remus wakes- but as if on cue, Lupin stirs, easing himself slowly into fetal position, and Sirius knows it would feel wrong to leave.

After a relatively short time given the circumstances, Remus pushes himself up into sitting position, guiding the blanket to pool in his lap.

He meets Black’s eyes, and behind the lingering fever there lies a softness in his gaze Sirius had yet to see since his return. How he missed it, how he needs it.

“Can you turn around?” he says, and Sirius complies.

Just as the wolf had emerged from behind him after moonrise, Remus passes through Black’s side vision and towards the stairs, now dressed in a speckled charcoal robe.

Sirius follows closely behind him up the stairs. As he closes the door, he sees Lupin pause and lean to one side, reaching for the wall to steady himself. Black lays a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Remus says, although for a few moments longer he remains still, head bowed.

He pushes gently off the wall and moves politely away from Black’s touch, although he makes no objection as Sirius follows him to his bedroom.

Black remains in the doorway as Remus drinks a potion and glass of water that had been waiting on his bedside table, taking in the atmosphere of the room. It’s easily the nicest room in the house. Accents of deep orange and dusty blue pull together the small space and framed art covers most of the adjacent wall, gems most likely plucked from second-hand shops.

He spots a photo of Remus between himself and James, and immediately looks away. He'd already recognized the moment, though, a quiet afternoon in the sun just days before graduation, just days before real life. He breathes deeply through the tightness in his throat.

* * *

As Lupin curls up in his bed, Black settles into a chair by the window.

He thinks of their school days, the shock of hearing Remus transform for the first time- how sadness seemed to lace his cries when he was younger, and how last night a tone of anger was heard instead.

He wonders where they would be if that Halloween hadn’t happened, where Remus would be if he was never bitten.

Of course, he’d easily maintain his professorship. Although, having witnessed his fervent study habits in school, he figures Lupin would probably not be content to do ‘just teaching’ if he finally had a body that could keep up with his mind. He’d surely seek more responsibility, though in what field, Sirius couldn’t say. Research? Writing? Perhaps even something in the visual arts? Didn’t his mum used to paint?

Whatever focus Remus chose, without his curse he would have surely been well paid and well respected.

Sirius sees him with a family, perhaps a daughter. He sees him laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for checking out my work! What do you think Remus would have done without his lycanthropy hindering him? I personally love the idea of art for him- he is a Pisces after all, haha!
> 
> I’ve been writing HP fanfics for ages, basically all involving Remus, but I’d never tried my hand at a “Lie low at Lupin’s” until this. It felt awesome, a personal milestone. 😊 If you're looking for more Moony-love, I have both Wolfstar & Snupin works posted that are all completed, but whether or not you check those out, I of course wish you happy reading!
> 
> -TTA


End file.
